Mistakes Happen
by Mrs. Lemondrop
Summary: After a huge misunderstanding in their seventh year, Ron and Hermione went their separate ways. Years later, they get thrown together unexpectantly and are forced to work with each other peacefully. The result? With Ron and Hermione, who knows. R&R!!!
1. Never Forgiven

Mistakes Happen  
  
Summary: After a huge misunderstanding in their seventh year, Ron and Hermione went their separate ways. Years later they get thrown together unexpectantly and are forced to work with each other peacefully. The result? With Ron and Hermione, who knows. R&R!  
  
Disclaimer: It pains me to say that I...own...nothing.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
~Hermione's Point Of View~  
  
"Done!" I sighed with relief and dropped my quill onto my desk, making sure it landed a good foot away from the essay I'd just spent hours writing. There was no way on this planet that I was going to go through THAT again! I leaned back in my chair and smiled broadly. It felt so wonderful to know that the essay was finished and that I hopefully had a bright career future ahead of me as Representative of the English Ministry of Magic. I had spent five entire years being transferred from office to office in the Ministry as a measly intern that consisted of getting the boss's coffee and filing papers. A living hell and a dramatic change for me! I actually missed my classes at Hogwarts. Of course, I'd always loved them at the time...they were so deliciously educational...but I always pictured myself to be somewhat successful after I graduated! Now, five years had passed, and I was still a nothing.  
  
I was finally taking a stand, though. The slot as Representative finally opened up, and I was more than determined to claim the job as mine. All I had to do was send in a resume, as well as captivate the boss with an interview and my essay and it was as good as mine. Nothing a little confidence couldn't handle, and I felt pretty sure of myself. Suddenly, the room brightened as if the clouds had decided to break open and celebrate with me. I glanced over at my window-seat across the room from my desk where the sunshine was streaming in, making the light blue sky outside visible. Ever since Viktor and I had moved into the small flat in Muggle London, the window-seat was by far my favorite place in the entire house. In fact, it was a large reason why I had persuaded him to buy this flat specifically. Even though it was only a single story house, there was an adorable terrace that stretched beyond the window, next to the small flower garden I had magicked there last summer. Our swinging bench was visible from its secluded spot between two trees in the backyard, and the city skyline was hovering above the white fence.   
  
But most of all, the sky is what claimed most of my attention. It was mesmerizing how it was able to control my moods just by which color it decided to paint across its canvas. When the sun rose, light pinks and yellows stretched themselves across the clouds, making me smile with hope of a new day. In the afternoon, like today, when the sky was a clear blue, I'd get lost in thoughts of thankfulness for all of my blessings. However, the opposite could affect me as well. When the clouds drizzled their annual showers, all I'd want to do is curl up and read a good book, or stretch out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a movie. Even in storms, when lightning flashed and rain poured, I'd want to huddle next to a crackling fire and sleep until the sun decided to show its face again.  
  
One weather affected me most, though. In the early spring evenings, when the sun set into the skyline, and hot pink and bright orange shot in every direction, I'd get an odd ache in the pit of my stomach that ran through every inch of my body. It was a depressing feeling, and I'd felt it for so long that I wasn't even sure what it meant anymore. It was almost like a profound longing, something only my heart understood. Even when Viktor, my boyfriend of three years, was home from his endless Quidditch tours to hold me and tell me that he loved me, the feeling wouldn't subside. Over the many years, I'd tried to tune it out, but on some evenings, it'd get so intense that I could do nothing more but sit on our fence, my legs dangling a few feet above the ground, and dwell on it.   
  
I jumped at the insistent scratching that began on the screen door in the next room. I chuckled softly to myself, realizing how long I'd been sitting there analyzing my weather-dependency. I hopped out of the chair and hurried into the bright lemon-yellow kitchen where a large snowy owl could be seen on the other side of the door. I smiled at the familiar animal and eagerly opened the door.   
  
"Hey, Hedwig," I murmured, gently untying the letter from his leg as he flew into the room, obviously eager for some water. I set the parchment on the counter, and poured a bit into a bowl before I unraveled it. Yep, there was Harry's unmistakable handwriting.  
  
Hermione,   
  
Hello! I haven't seen you in ages, how are you? Ginny and I just returned from an inspection of each of the major-league Quidditch teams. It must be done, you know, for the Ministry's Department of Magical Games and Sports. I got reacquainted with your boyfriend, and I must say, he isn't very friendly.  
  
Just kidding!  
  
Anyway, apparently Percy and Penelope are expecting a child after all these years, and Mrs. Weasley is determined to throw a party for her first grandchild. Everyone's going to be at the Burrow next Saturday around 7:00. I really hope to see you there, Herm. We all miss you very much!  
  
Your friend,  
  
Harry  
  
PS: Ginny says hi.  
  
I smiled. Harry and Ginny! They had been, and still were, the most adorable couple I had ever seen! Ever since sixth year, when they finally admitted their feelings for each other, which surprised everyone since Harry hadn't mentioned a word of it. Ron especially went into shock.   
  
Ugh, Ron. I frowned at the thought of my former best friend. In fact, he was the reason why I hadn't seen Harry or any of the Weasleys for so long. I, of course, missed them terribly as well, but whenever they invited me to come along for something, I always assumed that Ron was with them, and I couldn't bring myself to go. Before the night ended, I was sure that there was a distinct possibility that I might strangle the smart-ass redhead, and with his family surrounding us, I wouldn't get away alive. In that case, we would both die, and I didn't see Ron worthy of any kind of risk. So, I'd slowly drifted away from my best friend and the Weasleys, minus the few lunches I'd managed to squeeze out of Ginny's schedule. It was quite sad.  
  
Without my permission, my mind drifted to the night in seventh year when a friendship died. Or more specifically, Ron's and mine. It was our very last night at Hogwarts, right after the Graduation Ball. Ron had asked Lavender, I had asked Viktor, and Harry had asked Ginny. All six of us had gone to the ball and had a marvelous time, however I still have no idea why Ron and Lavender went together, since she is such a complete and shallow ditz. Ron obviously felt the same way about Viktor for some absurd reason, but he didn't have the decency to hold back his snide comments. The moment I stepped into the Common Room late that night after Viktor had left, I found Ron waiting for me. He jumped up at the sight of me and swiftly began the most ruthless row we had ever encountered.   
  
"So, how was snogging with the famous Vicky?" Ron had asked spitefully.  
  
"Ron, shut it, I'm not up to it tonight." I'd retorted. It was the truth. I'd had a wonderful night, and I was not about to let him ruin it.  
  
"Cut the crap, Hermione. You know as well as I do that you only went with him for one reason, and one reason only." He'd glared fireballs at me, and muttered the words through clenched teeth.   
  
"Really, what's that, Ron?"  
  
"You're not nearly as independent as you make yourself out to be. You're just too scared to end up alone and unhappy, and you'll take any guy you can get." He'd arched an eyebrow knowingly, and I thought I could rip them off I wanted too.  
  
My mouth dropped open, and I felt my face flush with red-hot anger. "Ronald Weasley, you have no right to say such things to me! How dare you?! You're the one who went to our last Hogwarts event with the school's biggest slut! Everyone here will only remember you as the guy who got lucky on his last night at school!"  
  
And so it continued, our biggest argument that was never forgiven.   
  
We'd scarcely seen each other for the past five years, and when we had accidentally run into each other somewhere like Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, we'd pretend the other wasn't there, and walk on other ends of the road without acknowledgment. Harry, the Weasleys, and even old school mates had tried to force us to talk to each other, but they had never succeeded, and in my opinion, it was going to stay that way.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~Ron's Point of View~  
  
As I stood up from the chair I'd been sitting in for the past few hours, I heard a faint pop and didn't even flinch. I guess that's what living with Fred and George in their flat does to a guy after a few years. There were more explosions within those walls than what occurred on a warfront. But, as I turned around, I finally jumped at the sight of a person, but my nerves calmed considerably when I realized whom it was.  
  
"Ugh, I'm exhausted..." I sighed tiredly and ran my fingers through my hair. Trying to write an impressive essay for the Ministry was a tiring feat, and I was in no need of any company at the moment. Sleep, maybe, but not friends. Hopefully Harry would take the hint.  
  
"Oh, it's good to see you too, mate!" Harry exclaimed sarcastically, then attempted to envelope Ron in a mock emotional hug. "It's been too, too long!"  
  
I took the hint. "Okay, okay, how was your trip! Please don't tell me you proposed to my little sister, because you know you have to consult me first." I raised an eyebrow at him, although inside I was mostly joking. Mostly.  
  
"Oh, the trip was great." Harry flopped onto the couch, ignoring most of my comment. "You should've been there. We met practically every Quidditch player there is, including the Chudley Cannons! I still don't understand why wouldn't join us!"   
  
"Because I'm not as lucky as some people, and I had to work at finding a job! In case you've forgotten, you're the one who had millions of job offers dropped onto your dinner plate at Hogwarts! Remember me? The boy-who-got-nothing? If I have to spend one more year working at Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes, I think I'll die." Harry laughed, and I glanced over at him before heading into the kitchen. "I'm serious."  
  
I opened the fridge, extracted a jug of Butterbeer, and took a swig straight from the bottle. I turned to Harry, who had followed me, and offered him some. He grimaced, and I laughed. "Sorry, I guess some of the laziness of Fred and George have rubbed off on me."   
  
"Okay, anyway, your mum asked me to come by and ask the three of you if you wanted to stop by the Burrow on Saturday night around 7:00..."   
  
I watched as Harry suddenly became fascinated with an old Quidditch magazine on the countertop. "Saturday?" I questioned suspiciously. "Why Saturday? Usually when she wants us all to come over, she invited us for the very next night, and today is only Tuesday."   
  
"Uh, yeah, well, she mentioned something about a small...little...gathering for the announcement of Percy's and Penelope's new child."  
  
I was extremely happy for my brother and his wife, no matter how annoying they were, that they were finally expecting. But I made no mention of this to Harry. I decided to go straight to the more important matters, such as the one consisting of my best friend and my family trying to force two rebellious people together. "Whoa, nice one there, Harry. You know I'd rather kill myself than see Hermione again..." Harry flushed at my ability to see right through him, and I laughed. "And you know as well as I do that you invited her. You guys have to stop this! We've avoided each other for five years, and it's going to continue for another five years! Get used to it! I'll send Penelope a 'congratulations' card. But I'll pass on the party. Thanks, though." I turned back to the Butterbeer, as Harry threw the magazine down with a light clap.   
  
"Stubborn asses! I don't understand you two! You're my best friends, and yet you still refuse to simply say 'I'm sorry'! Damn, flashback to kindergarten!"  
  
I set down the jug and looked at him in mock surprise. "Language, Harry!"  
  
He rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. "Fine. But don't count on that 'next five years' comment. I will succeed!" I snorted, and he continued. "So, what about this job thing?"  
  
Thankful for the change of subject, I told him all about the new opening for Representative of the English Ministry of Magic that I had heard about through my dad, and how I felt so incredibly eager to get the job, it almost hurt. It was such an amazing opportunity! I couldn't believe that the job had opened since it was in such demand because of its ability to let the employee travel wherever the job took them. Not only did the jobholder get to try to smooth things over with foreign people, but they also got to do an insane amount of sightseeing, something I definitely didn't complain about.   
  
The trick was, though, that they were advertising the new opening immensely, and since only one slot was available and over two hundred people applying for it, it was extremely competitive.   
  
"So, I'm just trying to think of it as another Quidditch match. It calms me a bit." I finished rambling, and took another swig of the Butterbeer.  
  
"That's great! I'm so proud of you, mate." Harry said, slapping me on the back. "It's about time you got a real job." He grinned mischievously, and I glared at him.  
  
Suddenly, exhaustion seemed to envelope me, and I looked at Harry wearily. "Harry, won't Ginny worry about you? It's getting late."  
  
"Ron, Ginny's only my girlfriend. I don't live with her. And since when are you trying to send me to her...in the middle of the night?!" He grinned and got up anyway, taking the hint. "I'll see you later. And at least think about that party on Saturday, okay? For your mum!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, as he apparated away. "When pigs fly."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: I know, I know, I should be working on my other fics! But I thought up this plot, and I had to do it before it left me forever! So...encourage me here! R&R! PLEASE! It's for the benefit of all. I'll take flames if they're a MUST...in fact, any review would be welcome! Thanks, all! 


	2. Wild Jealously

Mistakes Happen  
Chapter 2  
  
Disclaimer: Okay, if you REALLY REALLY want to see this (which I don't know why you would since if you clicked on this story, you probably want to see the STORY and not the DISCLAIMER), it's in the first chapter. Happy?  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews! Hmm. Okay, five reviews. But, they were GOOD reviews, and I really appreciated them! So, thanks to those five people. Because if it weren't for them, I'd have no idea that anybody was reading this, and I might not add on! So...okay, this is a hint for the future...REVIEW! I know it takes a bit of time (like ONE minute!), but it really helps us writers. K? lol.  
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~Ron's Point of View~  
  
Since I hadn't seen Mum or Dad in a couple of weeks, and the idea of a visitation on Saturday was clearly out of the question, I decided to stop by the Burrow on Wednesday during lunch. It was somewhat of a tradition for anyone who was in dire need or good food and persistent attention to honor my mum with their presence. She always glad to see a new face or cook for someone she wasn't expecting.  
  
So, when 12:00 rolled around the next afternoon, I told Fred and George where I was going before promptly apparating from the family joke shop to the Burrow's front porch. As soon as I felt my feet thud onto the aged wood in front of the door, I smiled. The sun was bright, lighting up the chipped white paint of the porch railing, and the wind was slightly chilly. What I've always loved most about the Burrow is that the weather always comes in distinct seasons. Today was no exception while the air hinted that spring was on the verge of blossoming.  
  
However, I mostly wasn't aware of this because of the strong smell of pot roast that was wafting through the open windows. I hungrily inhaled and let myself in.  
  
"Hello?" I heard Mum ask shrilly from the kitchen. Besides her voice, I heard a number of random people already roaming about, waiting for lunch.   
  
Ginny poked her head into the living room from where she was helping in the kitchen, and she smiled. "Hey Ron."   
  
"Ron?" Mum called surprised?  
  
I walked into the kitchen, and found Harry reading the Daily Prophet at the table, Dad and Percy deep in conversation, and Penelope Weasley (the newest addition) talking quietly with Mum as she and Ginny cooked. "Well, looks like a full house." I said. "Sure you have room for me?"  
  
Mum whipped around and ran over to me, hugging me tightly. "Well, of course sweetie! I'm glad you finally came by. I'd almost forgotten I had a sixth son." She eyed me jokingly and I grinned sheepishly.  
  
"Sorry, Mum, I've been a bit busy." I strolled farther into the room and opened the oven to see how things were going.  
  
"What could be so important as to keep you away from your dear old family?" She joked, swatting my arm lightly before starting to set the table.   
  
"Oh, Mrs. Weasley, didn't you hear?" Harry asked, grinning over at me. "Ron here has big career plans."  
  
Mum paused, then turned toward me with a raised eyebrow. "Really? I was hoping you'd finally found my future daughter-in-law." My jaw dropped and she laughed. "Just joking you, love," she soothed. "Now, what's this career that Harry's going on about?"  
  
At that moment, a wave of silence went over the room, leaving the question hovering in mid-air. Dad and Percy paused their conversation and listen curiously, Penelope and Ginny eyes me suspiciously, and Harry put on a face of innocence and grinned guiltily. I felt a growing annoyance bubble up in my chest as I thought of how I hadn't planned to tell my family about the new job until I actually got it. I didn't want Fred and George getting all upset and deciding to use me as their new joke-tester, because if that were to happen, I'd be sure to die as a half-canary, extra-long-tongued loner. Not only that, but I didn't want Dad using his position and connections in the Ministry to his advantage and getting it for me. I wanted to get this job because of my ability and nothing else. I sighed dejectedly. Leave it Harry to ruin that!  
  
* Scratch! Scratch! PECK PECK PECK! *  
  
Suddenly, loud noises from the screen door claimed everyone's attention and I sighed with relief. I looked heavenward gratefully, but when I heard Harry's chair scrape hurriedly against the wood, and Ginny run over to the door, my eyes snapped back to what was happening in front of me. Ginny had just opened the door, and Harry had practically attacked Hedwig before she could fully come in the room. The piece of parchment that Harry was fumbling with came loose, and I saw him hastily stuff it in a pocket of his robes. My eyes narrowed, and I began walking over to them, until...  
  
"Ron, could you help me with this?" Mum appeared next to me, along with Percy, Penelope, and Dad. Their eyes were frantic, and each one of them was trying to distract my attention to anywhere but Harry, Ginny, and Hedwig. I looked over their heads at the three of them and saw Harry trying to secure his robes as if to make sure the parchment wouldn't fall out.  
  
"Hold it!" I cried angrily. What was the big deal? "What's going on?"  
  
"Nothing!" Ginny answered rather quickly.  
  
I pushed past the group around me and stalked over to Harry. I held out my hand expectantly. "Letter, please."  
  
"Hmm?" he asked, eyes wide with innocence.  
  
"Don't play dumb, Harry. Let me see it."  
  
He looked up at me, then at the face of every other person in the room, as if searching for some sort of assistance. When he was answered with silence, he sighed angrily and rolled his eyes before stuffing his hand in his robe and pulling out a crumpled piece of parchment. "Bloody hell," he muttered.   
  
I snatched it from him and unfolded it. Inside was neat-as-a-pin handwriting that reminded me a lot of...Hermione's. I clenched my jaw and read on.  
  
Harry:  
  
Hello to you too! You're right, it has been too long. Maybe you, Ginny, and I could meet up for lunch one day! As for the gathering on Saturday, I'm afraid I won't be able to make it. Because...well...Viktor and I have already made dinner plans. Thank you so much for inviting me, though, it was very thoughtful. Please let Penelope know I'm happy for her! I'm also terribly sorry if Viktor was unkind to you two when you saw him over vacation...I'm sure he was just having a bad day.   
  
You're friend,  
  
Hermione  
  
PS: Tell Ginny I saw hi as well!  
  
I glared at the piece of parchment as if it were Hermione herself. I couldn't believe she had the nerve to write to MY best friend and ask if she could go out to lunch with MY sister...and not even ask about ME! Not that I wanted to see her anyway. I would rather rot in Snape's dungeon! But Miss Know-It-All should at least have some sort of manners, shouldn't she?  
  
Forgetting about Hermione, I crossly turned toward the group of people behind me, where Harry and Ginny had joined the rest with guilty looks on their faces, and their heads bowed in dismay of my reaction. I glared at them...something that was coming quite easily at the moment...and took a step toward them, making them all flinch.   
  
"First of all," I said, speaking loud and clear. I felt my face heat with anger with every word. "Not one of you has any right to invite Hermione to a party at MY family's house. Not one of you! If it weren't for the fact that all of you are unstoppably determined to get us together, I would've accepted the invitation. But since, I KNOW you all too well, and KNEW you would invite HER, I declined. The only thing you're achieving by doing this to the two of us, is deteriorating your relationships with us. It's really QUITE unfortunate! However, at THIS point, I wouldn't truly want to attend knowing that you have done this." Of course, I remembered that I'd guessed Hermione was invited, but I didn't want to actually see the results of the invitation.   
  
"And second," I continued angrily, glaring pointedly at Harry and Ginny. "You two saw HIM...little VICKY...on vacation and you didn't even have the decency to TELL me? What the hell is THAT?!" I unwillingly felt my stance changing from angry to hurt within seconds. "I thought we were friends. I even asked you how your trip went! I just don't get you guys sometimes. It's been five entire years since Hermione and I last spoke, and neither of us have any kind of desire to change that. Why can't you just accept it? All you're going to do is push me away."   
  
By this time, everyone's expression had changed from guilty to worried. Their heads were no longer bowed, and I could tell that they were listening intently to me. At that moment, though, I didn't care. I turned on my heel, wrenched open the kitchen door, and hurried outside.   
  
"But, sweetie! What about lunch?" I heard Mum call from behind me.  
  
"Forget it!" I bellowed and waved my hand dismissively over my shoulder.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I stumbled out into the crisp afternoon air, and began walking aimlessly about the friendly backyard that I had grown up in. And I was fuming. I thought back on all the times in the past five years that my family and Harry had attempted to plot Hermione and I together. They seemed to forget that neither of us...however hard it was to believe...were that thick, and we both managed to avoid it.   
  
Honestly! It was all incredibly stupid when you thought about it. I mean, if it weren't for that stupid fight in seventh year, none of this would have happened! It's not like I could've changed anything though...it wasn't MY fault in the slightest. I felt my face heat with anger once again as I thought about that night...  
  
~It was a week before the Graduation Ball. A week. I had seven days to gather up enough nerve to ask Hermione, and I didn't see it as a possibility. Every time I was in the same room with her, my mouth would go dry, my palms would start to sweat, and the tips of my ears would heat. It was horrible, really. Harry and Hermione had known me long enough to know why my ears would heat up, and I knew that sooner or later, they would end up seeing right through my joking-not-flirting-with-Hermione image.   
  
That night, when I approached Hermione, I overheard her reading a letter from Viktor Krum aloud to Ginny. "Ginny, listen to this," she had said. "'Hermione, your invitation to your Ball is in a irresistible, and I would adore going with you.' Did you hear that, Gin? He accepted!"  
  
I was absolutely furious, and in a state of wild jealousy, I'd asked Lavender Brown instead.   
  
Seven days later, after Lavender had slapped me for having such a horrendous evening, I'd waited for Hermione down in the Common Room in order to finally come clean with her, no matter how angry I was. Finally, around one o'clock in the morning, she'd waltzed in, and I had pounced on her, not caring while I took all my anger out on the most immense fight we ever had.   
  
And then, like another slap in the face, she'd shrieked at me, "You're the one who went to our last Hogwart's event with the school's biggest slut! Everyone here will only remember you as the guy who got lucky on his last night at school!"~  
  
I couldn't believe that she'd said that. She didn't even know why I had asked her! But now...none of it mattered. Hermione had never apologized, and even if she did, I wouldn't listen. We'd drifted too far apart, and that's how it will be forever.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Sorry it's been so long since we had Hermione's POV! That'll be first up in the next chap, though, don't worry! And now to important things:  
  
I want to thank each and every person who reviewed! This would include five people: Celeste, miracle, Slap me silly, Athene, and ESPECIALLY Queen: )B for letting me know that I had checked the little box making it impossible for you unregistered people to review! As for that, I must apologize right now, because I had no idea I was doing that! In fact, I didn't know HOW to do it until I had to actually fix it!   
  
Thanks again for reviewing, and if you HAVEN'T reviewed yet, please do so...NOW! Please? For me? It really helps to inspire me to keep writing. I would really, truly, immensely, appreciate it. PLEASE! That little review button...press it...  
  
Hope you liked it! : )  
  
More chapters are on the way... 


	3. Waiting

Mistakes Happen  
  
Disclaimer: Ron Weasley is not mine. Uh, I mean, everything related to Harry Potter is not mine. Ron just jumps out at me...  
~Hermione's Point Of View~  
  
The next Friday I quickly gathered my things from around my desk and headed toward the Apparating Room. It was 5:00, and I was more than ready to end the week. Lately, I had been exhausted from all of the unrewarding work I'd been subjected too, all the harassment I'd been getting from Harry and Ginny about Ron, and...I sighed...all of the lonely nights.   
  
My fast-paced walk slowed to a saunter as I made my way through the hallways lost in thought. Viktor, my supposed boyfriend (ha!), was almost always away on Quidditch games, but...I had to admit it myself sooner or later. When he was home, we just...lived together. We didn't do ANYTHING. We barely even spoke, so I never really knew what he was up to on his tours. However, I had realized by the few times that we had actually had conversations that I wasn't really missing much when we didn't have them. I was amazed at how unintelligent he was!   
  
Suddenly, I was standing on my front porch. I blinked a few times, completely disoriented. I had aimed for the living room! I heard myself make an annoyed grumbling sound while I searched my purse for my keys, and I hurriedly unlocked the door.  
  
As soon as I had stepped inside, I heard the definite, blaring sound of the Muggle television that I had hooked up. It hadn't been difficult, since we WERE living in Muggle London, but it was still very valued by Viktor, seeing as how he had never had one while living in the wizarding world. I had always had a TV, though, and I never watched it when I was alone, unless there was a good movie on.   
  
It was then that I noticed the familiar dark head sitting in front of the screen with his back turned to me. "Viktor?" I asked, bewildered at him being home so unexpectantly.   
  
"Yes?"  
  
I felt my shoulders slump. Shouldn't there be more of a, "Hello, dear! How are you? I've missed you terribly! Let me throw myself at your feet!" kind of thing? But noooooo.   
  
"Someving I could help you wiv, Herm?" he asked, his attention still fixed on the screen in front of him, not bothering to look at me after the couple of months of separation.   
  
I rolled my eyes at the nickname I had become accustomed to since he STILL couldn't pronounce my name correctly. It was one thing if my friends called me that as a pet name, but it was another if it was because someone simply couldn't say my real name. But, instead of voicing this thought, I plastered on a smile and made my way over to him. After all, we HAD been together for three years hadn't we?  
  
"No, nothing at all. I was just surprised to see you after so long!" I sat down beside him and snaked an arm around his neck, running my fingers lightly through his hair.   
  
I sat there. Smiling. Waiting for a reaction.   
  
My face was only a few inches from his, and still, no reaction. I pulled my arm back and sat back with a thump. "Didn't you miss me at ALL?"  
  
Finally his eyes turned to glance at me quickly, then dart back to the screen. "Hmm?"  
  
My jaw dropped in exasperation and my mind started reeling. What the hell was I doing with this man? We obviously didn't do anything for each other...we were barely even friends. I suddenly had the sickening feeling of wanting out. Out of the house. Out of the relationship. Forever.  
  
Luckily, the sharp tap of beak against window could be heard from the screen door, and I hurriedly scrambled to answer it. Sure enough, I saw an immaculate medal adorning the symbol for Ministry of Magic around the neck of a huge, professional looking brown owl complete with a tightly rolled piece of parchment tied on to one of its leg with a bright green ribbon. He stared at me unblinkingly with intimidating yellow eyes, waiting for me to open up for him.  
  
I could feel my heart skip and jump up to my throat, causing a light buzzing noise to produce in my ears. I stood there frozen for a minute until I became overwhelmed with sense of needing to know the outcome of the job application.   
  
I snapped open the door, shakily untied the ribbon, stroked the owl's head, and slowly unrolled the parchment. Dark blue writing immediately began to scrawl itself upon the page.   
  
Dear Ms. Granger,  
  
Firstly, we would like to thank you for your assiduous efforts in your application.  
  
~My heart sank.  
  
We would also like you to know that you have been chosen for the shared position of Representative of the English Ministry of Magic. It would be an honor if you would accept and join us.  
  
~I drew in a sharp breath. I had been selected!  
  
However, a few changes have occurred that you should be aware of. Due to overwhelming labor that needs to be accomplished as soon as possible, the job you had previously applied for has been split in half. You will now be sharing the position with another qualified employee.  
  
~What?  
  
Also, as you know, this job will require you to travel frequently throughout the year. This will begin shortly. In one week, Friday April 3, you and your partner will be obligated to reside near the French Ministry of Magic in order to help them sort out a security problem at their local school, Beautbatons. The assistance from the two of you will be greatly appreciated by the French wizarding world.   
  
~Okay, who IS this partner exactly?  
  
There is no need to respond to this letter. Since the French are extremely traditional, you will simply need to apparate to the London Airport, where you will become acquainted with your partner, and take the flight 604 to Paris. The ticket is enclosed. Thank you for interest and effort.   
  
Sincerely,  
Cornelius Fudge  
Minister of Magic  
  
At this point, I became aware of the plane ticket that was attached to the back of the letter. I carefully took it off and examined it. Sure enough, the ticket had the flight number, time, date, etc., but there was no return ticket. I turned it over, confused, but nothing was there.   
  
I shrugged. Maybe they simply wanted us to apparate back to London.   
  
"What was that, Herm?"  
  
I turned around and happily skipped toward my room. "Oh, I just got a new job," I said nonchalantly. "And, Viktor? It's HERMIONE."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The next Friday afternoon, I excitedly walked through the sliding doors of the London Airport. A cool wind blew in from behind me, and I felt my bushy hair puff about me wildly, but I didn't care. I was completely absorbed with the new opportunity, new adventure.   
  
I quickly checked in, and with my small carry-on over my shoulder, and my large suitcase rolling behind me, I walked along the crowded airport corridor, my eyes searching rapidly for the sign '604'.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I could I swear I spotted a bit of a dark blue cloak, but that couldn't be! Any wizard in their right mind would wear Muggle clothing in such a public place. Even I was wearing jeans and a light blue halter with a beige jacket over it. I jerked my head toward the direction I had seen it, but not one was in sight.   
  
A few minutes later, I was getting closer. 596...597...598. There it was again! It was just a quick glimpse directly in front of me and it was gone. My eyes narrowed. What was going on?  
  
My worries were quickly forgotten when I spotted 604 to my left. I smiled and made my way to an empty chair. I still had about 15 minutes to spare, and I began to search for a familiar face. I had no idea who this 'partner' was, but I was hoping I would recognize them. Otherwise, I didn't know how we would meet up. Maybe we were seated next to each other?  
  
I was mindlessly staring at an advertisement on the wall lost in thought, when an arm came literally out of nowhere and seemed to be...scratching a leg, maybe? The arm froze in midair, and disappeared just as quickly as it had come. My jaw dropped.  
  
I casually left my suitcases, and began to walk around the direction of where the arm had been. I looked about innocently, hoping that whoever was there wouldn't notice me coming. When I got close enough, I glanced around quickly to see if anyone was watching. I then sprinted forward, and threw my arms in the direction of where the arm had been.  
  
I felt a smooth, silky material beneath my fingers that was definitely NOT the wall, and I yanked on it with all of my might. As soon as it came off of the wearer, I could tell that it was an invisibility cloak. I stared at it in my hands, then my eyes snapped up to the person who was responsible for it. Whoever it was, they were going to pay! Invisibility cloaks were against the rules, ESPECIALLY in Muggle areas!   
  
It was then that I noticed the timid, embarrassed expression, bright blue eyes, and fiery red hair.   
  
I swallowed heavily.   
  
"Ron?"  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Oh, man, I even hate myself for putting such a cliffhanger there! I hope you liked it anyways though.   
  
I would like to thank all the reviewers (and there weren't many!!! jeez, guys!!!):  
Celeste, Serge99, BBB, and ESPECIALLY Mikel!!! I don't usually do this because I appreciate any and all reviews (even flames, if necessary), but:  
  
Mikel~ when I read your review I was actually blushing! It was so so so sweet, thank you so much! That one review helped inspire me to write this chap.! Thanks so much!  
  
Now, please review! PLEASE!!! I would simply ADORE it, dahling!   
  
Yeah.  
  
Just review. 


	4. Stupid Git!

Mistakes Happen  
  
Disclaimer: Jeez, go see the first chapter. Or talk to J.K. Rowling. She'll tell you I own nothing.  
  
~Hermione's Point Of View~  
  
"Ron?"  
  
He looked at me guiltily, eyeing me cautiously as if I were going to explode at any moment.   
  
I, on the other hand, was startled and openly staring at my ex-best friend. It was absolutely bizarre standing two feet away from him when I hadn't been within two miles of him in the past five years. He looked exactly the same, which wasn't any surprise. I would never expect Ron to change in any way, good or bad. His hair was slightly longer, however, giving it a shaggier look, and at the moment, he looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed. Which he probably had. I noticed that he was just as tall as before...I wouldn't have expected him to shrink...and he was clad in a set of professional dark blue robes. The exact same robes I had seen earlier.   
  
My eyes narrowed again when I thought of this. I also noticed that he didn't look surprised to see me in the least. Almost as if he'd expected me. "What are you doing here? And why were you using an Invisibility cloak? Is that Harry's? You should know that they're against the-"  
  
"Hello to you too, Hermione." His eyes had gone cold, and he was standing at his full height, no longer cowering. "Yes, I'm aware that they're against the rules...we talked about this MANY times at Hogwarts. But, I was running late and didn't have time to change into Muggle clothes, so Harry let me borrow it. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He attempted to step around me, but I blocked his way.   
  
"What are you doing here?" I asked again, crossing my arms over my chest.   
  
He glared daggers at me before reaching into his robes. I thought for a moment he was going to turn his wand on me, but he simply revealed a piece of familiar looking parchment.   
  
"I have every right to be here, Hermione, so don't try to make me feel otherwise." He waved the paper at me, enforcing every word. "I got a job, and I'm on my way there, okay? Bloody hell, Hermione, I'm not a criminal. You don't have to be suspicious of me. After all, we WERE best-"  
  
I had barely heard a word he was saying. That parchment captivated all of my attention. That was the exact same letter I had gotten from the Ministry! I grabbed it out of his hands and stared at it, my mouth hanging open. This couldn't be! I was going to Paris with...Ron Weasley?  
  
I felt like I was going to scream, but my voice seemed to have died. I looked up at Ron, then back at the parchment, then at him again. "You...you..." I cleared my throat. "You're the Representative?" I croaked.  
  
He nodded proudly and snatched the parchment back. "Yes. Why, is that so terribly hard to believe?"  
  
A loud crackling came over the intercom system and we both stopped to listen to it. "Flight 604, now boarding. Flight 604."  
  
"Oh, that's me!" he said cheerily, obviously pleased at getting away from me. He started over toward the door.  
  
"Oh, god, I think I'm going to faint." I muttered. The room had gone a little fuzzy, and I wasn't feeling like myself.  
  
Ron turned back to me with a smirk on his face. "What, can't stand to be away from me? Come on, Hermione, you seemed to have handled it beautifully for five years." He then turned back toward the plane entrance, not seeming to worry about me at all. However, I hadn't exactly expected him to run to my side.  
  
"Ron, you stupid git!" I yelled, my voice suddenly found. "You have a partner!"  
  
He stopped mid stride and slowly turned around. "Yes, I know." His eyes were a bit worried as he glanced around the room. "I didn't find anyone I recognized, so I'm not sure who it is. I guess I'll just board anyway, though..." He glanced at me questioningly for a moment, as if asking my opinion. Then he quickly shook his head and smirked again, reminding me remarkably of Malfoy. I almost told him this when he added, "What, do YOU know who it is?"  
  
I raised an eyebrow, and crossed my arms again. "Yes, actually. Me."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~Ron's Point Of View~  
  
I leaned forward slightly. I couldn't have heard her correctly. "Sorry?"  
  
She turned back toward the suitcases I had seen her set down earlier. "I said...it's me." She said calmly, although I could see the look of disdain in her eyes. I'd known her too long for those kinds of games.  
  
My mind reeled. Of course, I'd seen her while I was walking through the airport wearing Harry's Invisibility cloak, and I had hurried to get as far away from her as possible, and even though she'd seemed to be going in the same direction as me, I hadn't even considered the possibility of HER being my partner.  
  
I thought back to the previous Friday when I'd first received the letter. I was so thrilled, that I'd read it aloud to Harry and Ginny who were nearby. Ginny had screeched and hugged me, but Harry had just sat there, a knowing smile on his face. I'd looked at him quizzically, but he'd just thrown on a smile and congratulated me. Now that I thought about it, Hermione must have told him about HER getting the job, and he knew that we were to be partners. I silently vowed to critically injure him later.  
  
I watched Hermione bend down to gather her things, and my eyes drew to the familiar site of her backside. My head tilted thoughtfully to one side, as I had done so many times in Hogwarts, until I realized what I was doing and jerked my eyes away. I felt the blood rush to my face and I willed it to go down. I silently fiddled with my robes, trying to distract my own attention, but when Hermione returned her attention to me, I knew it hadn't worked.  
  
"What's up with you?" she asked suspiciously.   
  
I rolled my eyes at her tone. "Nothing!" I said, extremely exasperated. I then turned on my heel and continued on into the plane.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
A/N: I am down on KNEES begging you not to kill me for how short this chapter is. But before you get TOO mad, I have some good news! My business will be gone...well, at least SHORTENED...in TWO weeks, so I'll have more time to write! And I definitely will because I love loyal readers. So I'll do it for you! But in the meantime: REVIEW! Thanks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Review  
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	5. Room With A View

~Hermione's Point Of View~  
  
To my disdain, the Ministry had arranged it so that the two Representatives were seated next to each other on the plane. And, of course, they were window seats, so I had no hope of speaking to anyone besides Ron. When I'd finally caught up to him, we'd rolled our eyes at each other and turned our backs so we were facing opposite directions.   
  
Now, an hour later, we were still turned away from each other. Well, I was at least. I hadn't turned to see if he still was. With this lack of conversation though, I was left with my book, but my thoughts were taking over and I'd been blankly staring at the pages in front of me for about half an hour.   
  
~It's all so stupid! If Ron would only apologize, then we could move on with our lives. I would gladly forgive him; I just want to hear two little words. "I'm sorry." Is it that difficult?~   
  
I sighed heavily. I'd realized that this flight was going to take forever. We still had an hour to go!  
  
I was taken out of my trance by a sharp tap on my shoulder. I turned my head toward the aisle, where it had come from, and found an annoyed flight attendant. "Madam, I said, would you like something to drink?"   
  
"Oh, uh, yes, that would be nice. Maybe a...diet coke?" I said, flustered for a moment by her rudeness.  
  
She made a cursory attempt at filling the plastic cup, thrust it at me, and then turned to stare adoringly at the blob next to me. "And what about your friend?"  
  
This lady was really starting to get on my nerves. First, she practically bruises my shoulder with her fake nails, then she forgets to put ice in my drink, and THEN she wants ME to be the go-between in her flirty antics? Uh, I think not. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" I muttered menacingly.  
  
Her eyes snapped off of Ron and turned coldly toward me. "I would if he wasn't sleeping." She opened her mouth to say something else, but instantly shut it, as if remembering her job and how much she was risking it by arguing with a customer. She then forced a sugary sweet smile on her face. "Do you know what he would like?"  
  
I couldn't believe this. While I was obsessing over Ron, he had the indecency to SLEEP? "Ugh, Ron!" I said harshly, turning toward him. But any more words were caught in my throat. He was leaning against the plane's window, propped up by a pillow. He was attempting to cover up his long body with the small blanket that he'd obviously taken from the compartment above. His breathing was soft and rhythmic, and his lips were parted slightly. His hair was, if possible, even more tousled, and I was caught up in the fact of how adorable he looked when he slept. The sun was setting, sending an orangish glow over his skin, causing him to look much more boyish than manly. At the sound of my voice, he shifted unconsciously, and I immediately shut my mouth in fear of waking him.  
  
On the other side of me, the flight attendant cleared her throat. "I really must serve the other customers. Do you know what he would like to drink?"   
  
At this point, I didn't care how annoyed she was. But, I unhappily tore my eyes away from the endearing sight of Ron. "Um...yes. Do you have any pumpkin juice?"  
  
The stewardess' nose wrinkled in disgust, but she reached down to the bottom shelf of the cart and extracted a small pitcher of the juice. She handed it to me, and quickly moved on, obviously no longer interested in someone who would choose pumpkin juice.   
  
I put the glass into the other holder on my tray since his wasn't down, and stole another glance at Ron. He shifted again, this time causing the blanket to slip off his shoulders. A few moments later, he shivered slightly. I stared for a moment, and then glanced around me, making sure no one would see what I was about to do. When I didn't see anyone watching us, I carefully picked up the blanket, and tucked it back around his shoulders.   
  
He sighed, and a small smile went on his face. "Thanks," he murmured.  
  
I smiled and turned back to my book.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~Ron's Point Of View~  
  
"Come on, Hermione!" I said, irritated. In the past few hours, we'd endured a postponed landing, lost luggage, found luggage, lack of taxis, and each other. Now, hours later than expected, we were finally at our Muggle hotel, Chateau de Paris. Well, we were actually in the process of hauling our heavy suitcases up the many, many stairs in front of the hotel, and I wanted to get in as soon as possible. This was something that Hermione was delaying with her slowness.  
  
"Ron, do you think I'm not trying? Stop complaining, and go check in if you're in that much of a hurry." I heard her grunt, heaving her bag up another stair.   
  
I rolled my eyes and dropped my bags at the top of the staircase where I was waiting ever so patiently. "I'll do it." I leapt down the stairs and attempted to take it from her until I realized why she was having so much trouble with it. It must have weighed 150 pounds! "Hermione, what do you have in here?" I groaned, pulling it behind me.   
  
"Just some light reading. I didn't think it would weigh so much." She said, somewhat embarrassed. She snatched up another handle and began hauling it with me.   
  
I couldn't help it, and I burst out laughing. "Hermione, you never change."   
  
She immediately dropped her hold on the bag, causing me to fall back a step. "What's that supposed to mean?" she inquired, eyes flashing. "Personally, I think change is highly overrated. Besides, I can change. It's not like I'm incapable of it or something, I just-"  
  
"Hermione! Calm down." I said, annoyed. She always got so worked up over things! "I didn't say it like it was a bad thing. It's actually kind of cute." I grinned sideways at her until I felt my ears turning pink. Why did that always happen? I cleared my throat loudly. "Come on, let's go check in."  
  
After making our way through the rotating door, we finally entered what must have been the most elegant building I have ever been in, and Hermione headed for the front desk. I, on the other hand, could not believe what was in front of me. Huge golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling every few feet, lighting up the shining wooden floor that were decked with thick maroon carpets. Other guests were lounging about on the many squashy chairs and couches that were placed in front of fireplaces. Bouquets of flowers were on every table, and bellboys were waiting on people's every move.   
  
I had never been in a place like this before.  
  
"Ron? Are you coming?" Hermione stood before the front desk, looking at me with an amused expression. When I nodded dumbly, she knowingly tapped the small silver bell on top of the desk as if she'd done that every day of her life.   
  
It wasn't long before a middle-aged woman with a creased brow and gray-streaked hair appeared on the other side. Her crisp gray dress suit seemed to reflect her personality as she glared at Hermione for interrupting her peace and quiet. "Can I help you?" she asked, without an ounce of hospitality.  
  
Hermione seemed to pick up on the emotion, and she appeared to answer the woman with as much of a friendly tone as she could muster. "Yes, I'd like to check in. My name is Hermione Granger." I watched as she began to rummage through her purse, probably searching for some means of pay or identification.   
  
I heard the rapid typing of the woman, and I began to mindlessly flip through the brochures, until-  
  
"Yes, here you are." The woman said, typing rapidly onto the keys. "The Presidential Suite with a...Ronald Weasley? Yes, that's right. This room has already been paid for, so here are your keys, and-"  
  
By this time, Hermione and I were both staring at her as if she were insane. I wasn't sure about Hermione, but I knew that I was beginning to feel a little dizzy by the loss of blood from my head.   
  
"There must be a mistake," I said, probably too urgently. I stepped in next to Hermione and attempted to lean over the counter to look at the computer. She must have read something wrong!   
  
The lady, however, wasn't too fond of me invading her space, and she swatted my hand away, sighing indignantly. "Sir, I have worked here for many, many years. I would be fully aware of it if a mistake had occurred. However, it states clearly on this screen that Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley have reserved and pre-paid for the Presidential Suite. If there is a problem with this reservation, I am not the person to talk to; therefore, here are your keys. I trust that two young people such as yourselves can handle this situation." She paused for a breath, and glared at Hermione and I with a look much like Professor McGonagall causing both of us to shrink and nod obediently. With a snap, the keys were slammed onto the counter top, and as the sounds of the woman's heels clicking on the wood faded away, Hermione and I were left to stare at the two keys in front of us, both with the same room number: 1024.   
  
"I can't believe this," I heard Hermione mutter after what must have been a few minutes.   
  
I glanced sideways at her, and I noticed that she looked as pale as I felt. If we'd already fought in the few hours that we'd been together, it wasn't even plausible that we could live together for who knows how long without biting each others heads off. Literally. I suddenly had a sickening vision of her throwing one of her well-researched curses at me while my head flew through an open window.   
  
"Bloody hell," I said, mindlessly grabbing one of the keys. Without a second thought, I headed toward the elelvator.  
  
"Language, Ron!" Hermione said warningly. She miserably grabbed her own bags and followed me. We dragged all of our things onto the dark elevator, and as the doors silently slid shut behind us, the silence was unbearable.   
  
"Do we even know what floor we're going to?" I asked suddenly. The rude woman at the desk had conviently forgotten to mention it to us, and I had to idea where to begin.   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, and pointed deliberately at the sign behind me listing all the floors and what rooms were on them. My eyes scanned over the list: Floor 1-Rooms 1-100, Floor 2-Rooms 101-200, all the way up to the highest level.   
  
Floor 10-Rooms 1000-1099.   
  
"Brilliant!" I exclaimed, excitedly punching the tenth button.   
  
"What in the world could you possibly be excited about in the situation that we are so wonderfully stuck in?" Hermione asked sarcastically, leaning back onto the elevator wall, bumping her head almost purposefully on the wood behind her.  
  
"Before you give yourself a concussion, maybe you should hear my reasoning." I declared, ignoring the annoyed expression on her face. "First, we'll be staying in a suite, where there will obviously be separate bedrooms." At this, I saw a look of clarity go over her face as if she should have known that the entire time. "Second, we're in Paris for Merlin's sake! And third, we're on the top floor which will hopefully have a view." At that moment, the ascending stopped with a beep while the doors slid open once again.   
  
~ Hermione's Point Of View~  
  
As we made our way down the hallway, I was feeling extremely stupid. Why in the world didn't I think of the fact that there would be more than one bed in that room? With my encyclopedic knowledge, you would think that I of all people would register the word 'suite'. But no...all I know is that as soon as that lady spat out those dreadful words...'with Ronald Weasley'...I got this very uncomfortable feeling. Hot... and fluttery... and strangely exciting...of course, not in a good way.   
  
"Anytime now, Hermione," Ron shook me out of my musings by holding the door to our room open. He looked like he'd been like that for some time.  
  
"Oh, right." I hastily picked up my bags and clumsily pulled them in behind me. As I hauled them past the door frame, the wheels from the large suitcase holding my books paused briefly, unable to go over the threshold. With a determined yank, I succeeded in finally getting it into the room.   
  
Ron was still holding the door open, witnessing the entire episode. "You have it there?" he asked, a slight grin on his face.   
  
I nodded and continued past him. That is, until-  
  
He put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me in the room. It almost seemed like he wasn't aware of what he was doing, but I definitely was. I felt my muscles tense and goosebumps rise on my arms. This reminded me of something that I couldn't quite remember. Maybe it was something like-  
  
Then it hit me.  
  
Hogwarts. It reminded me of our last couple of years of Hogwarts when Ron began to act so strangely. I remember that he would always touch me like that whenever he got the chance. We were still friends then. But then, things changed, and I didn't think that he had any right to be touching me like that now.   
  
Hastily, I sped up my pace, blowing past a surprised Ron. The door clicked shut behind me, and I knew that neither of us knew what to say next.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
  
A/N: I want to thank every single person who has read and reviewed this fic. There are many more chapters to come, and it would inspire me to keep writing if you would review. It has been so much fun so far to hear what people think about this. I WILL accept flames if necessary, lol. So, please review!  
  
Thanks :) 


	6. Fate, my friends, fate!

~Ron's Point Of View~  
  
For a moment, I simply stood there, slightly stunned by Hermione's hastiness to get as far away from me as possible. But, the words I had just said ran through my head, and I decided that I wanted to live up my time in Paris since there was a good chance I would never have the money to visit there again. Suddenly, the brightness in the room caught my attention, and I finally took a good look at where I was standing.   
  
And just like I had thought, we had a room with a view.  
  
The room was large and strangely circular, vaguely reminding me of the Gryffindor common room. There were two couches facing each other in the center of the room with a long coffee table between them. Fresh tulips were placed on the table, radiating a soothing scent. On the wall to the left was a large fireplace with an armchair placed in front of it, while a desk took up the same space on the opposite wall. There were also other useful items placed sporadically around the room, such as a partially filled bookcase and a...fellytone? Anyway, the most spectacular aspect of the room was straight in front of me. There was a pair of French doors with windows embedded into its wooden surface while another larger window took up the rest of the wall. Past the wall of glass, I could make out one of the largest balconies I had ever seen with stone benches facing the dazzling view of the Eiffel Tower.   
  
I could tell Hermione had noticed this too, because we both stood in awe before the picturesque scene of the sun setting behind the slightly lit Tower.   
  
"Oh, Merlin..." I heard Hermione whisper in a voice of amazement. "I've seen Paris before, but this is...perfect..."  
  
I dropped my bags and headed toward the beckoning French doors. Hermione seemed as though she'd been waiting to do that very thing, and she scrambled forward at my cue. I seized open the doors, and we stumbled out into the shockingly crisp air.   
  
"Brilliant..." I muttered. I was soaking in the entire sight: everything from the tiny people below to the miniscule speck in the distance. I turned back to Hermione. "What'd I tell you?"  
  
But she didn't answer. Her eyes were focused, rather confused, on the 'miniscule speck' I had seen just a moment earlier. I turned to see what the problem was, and noticed that the speck was a great snowy owl.   
  
"Hedwig." She said. "What's Harry writing for, though? We just got here."  
  
But I had a pretty good idea.  
  
Hedwig gingerly landed on Hermione's shoulder as I swiftly headed back toward the room. I knew that this might cause a bit of an uproar...as it did when I first realized it...but I had to admit that I was a bit...frightened of Hermione's reaction.   
  
And sure enough: "Ron?" Hermione said warily. "Why is this addressed to BOTH of us? I mean, he knew I had the job, but..." A look of dawning comprehension crossed her face and she scowled. "He knew about this, didn't he?"   
  
"That's my guess."  
  
"And he didn't tell either of us!"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"He knew," she reiterated, her voice shrill. "That we were going to be STUCK together, and he didn't even have the courtesy to notify us. The dreadful sneak," she muttered, pacing the stone floor. "I bet this fits perfectly into their little plan!"  
  
"Hermione-"  
  
But she was on a roll, not even taking notice that I was still within hearing distance of her. "I'm sure they're absolutely ECSTATIC that this has happened! I wouldn't even be surprised if they set this whole thing up. But, no, this is the Ministry we're talking about. They wouldn't let that happen. But then, how-"  
  
"HERMIONE!"   
  
She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to me as if realizing I was there for the first time, her eyes blazing.   
  
I walked over to her and gently unclenched her hand from around the now crumpled piece of parchment with our names scrawled across the front. "First, let's read what he has to say. THEN, and only then, we can figure out a plan of revenge." I grinned at her, and she seemed to soften a bit.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, let's hear it then."  
  
I slowly unfolded the parchment and began to read aloud.  
  
Ah, dearest Ron and Hermione!  
  
What did I tell you? After five years of trying to force you two together, you did it on your own. Do you know what they call this? Fate, my friends, fate!   
  
Okay, now that I've gotten my two Galleons in, I want to tell you something with all jokes aside. I know you two better than you know yourselves. You're my best friends and I love you like a brother and a sister. I trust that both of you will be able to relax and possibly be apologetic, and although you are probably stubbornly opposed to it now (I would know, I've experienced this side of you both much too many times), I want you to think of something.   
  
After five years of being separated, what have you gained? Neither of you seem very happy, and neither of you seem very successful (please do not take that as a disparagement, I'm just speaking the facts). All I ask is this: listen to each other. Be understanding. Please, don't do it for anyone but yourselves.   
  
Much love,  
  
Harry  
  
I stared down at the piece of parchment in my hands, my heart pounding with embarrassment. Oh, why had I read it aloud? I should've read it, then handed it over to Hermione so that we would never really have to discuss it. But now, it was too late. I'd finished reading, and now a heavy blanket of silence had fallen over us.   
  
Avoiding Hermione's eyes, I crumpled the parchment once again and cleared my throat, knowing that my skin had turned a light pink. "Uh, right. Well, shall we, uh, unpack...or something?"   
  
"Definitely," Hermione said with a note of relief in her voice as she hurried into the room.   
  
I tossed the note into the wastepaper basket near the door, and then turned and noticed for the first time the two perfectly white doors on either side of the door we had originally walked in. As Hermione threw her bags over her shoulder (leaving the heavy one for later I noticed with amusement) and headed toward the door on the left, I cautiously opened the other, wondering what was inside.   
  
At the sight of its contents, I smiled. There was a large four-poster navy blue bed that looked as if it were the comfiest piece of furniture ever made to man. The bed was pushed against the wall opposite of the door with a small window to the right of it. On the left was another door, presumably leading to a bathroom. Before I took a step in, I heard Hermione's door creak open, and we stepped into our separate rooms.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
An hour later, after all my clothes were safely in the closet and small bureau, I stepped out into the 'living quarters', as I had decided to call them, and found Hermione already sprawled across one of the couches. There were a few letters scattered across the table between the sofas, and she was already in the process of reading one of them.  
  
"These were here when I came out," she said without looking up.   
  
I nodded and sat down across from her, peering at the envelopes. Before I could soak any words up, though, Hermione interrupted the silence.  
  
"Listen to this," she said, unconsciously twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "We got a letter from the French Minister of Magic himself, Mr. Pierre Delacour," Her words were only half sinking in as I watched her dark golden hair spin between her slender fingers. "He says that he wants to meet up with us tonight at 8 o'clock and discuss what we're here to do." I involuntarily wondered how hair could spin so easily. "He says he'll meet us in the café downstairs, and that's...about an hour away!" My fingers were beginning to itch in need of touching that spinning hair that was starting to coil itself slightly. "Okay? Ron?" The hair dropped, and I quickly averted my gaze back to Hermione's face. What had I just been doing? Obsessing over her HAIR? For God's sake...  
  
"Yeah! Yep. Definitely." I gave her the best smile I could muster while feeling an intense mortification.  
  
She eyed me suspiciously. "Right. Well...I'll go get ready then."  
  
"Alright," I said, and waited until her door had clicked behind her until I allowed myself to fall face down onto the couch, desperately trying to suffocate myself.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~Hermione's Point of View~  
  
At about a quarter to 8, I glanced at myself in my mirror one last time before heading out into the main room. I wanted to be sure that my first impression with the French Minister of Magic was a valuable one. I had tried to tame my hair a bit, and the beige dress pants I was wearing seemed to go well with the navy blue tank top. I had to admit that I was a little nervous.  
  
When I stepped out, Ron was leaning against the wall next to his bedroom door, entirely caught up in picking a piece of fuzz off his leather jacket so that he didn't seem to notice me. I grinned for a moment. It was so strange how we had just been together for only a few hours, and it was beginning to feel almost like...old times.   
  
I shook my head, pushing the thought away quickly. I still had every right to be mad at him. Looking back on that night, he had absolutely no reason to do what he did: yelling at me about my date, when he was supposedly my best friend and should be supportive.   
  
"Ready to go?" I asked, sounding a slightly colder than I had intended.   
  
He jumped, obviously not expecting me so close. "Yeah, whenever." He said, and unless I was hallucinating, his gaze swept over my hair and face.   
  
I headed toward the door, and he stepped in front of me, holding it open.  
  
"Thanks." I muttered.  
  
"Mm-hmm."   
  
We stepped in the elevator, and silence once again took over. I pretended to be engrossed in watching the numbers above the door light up one at a time, indicating which floor we were passing. After a few floors passed, I could feel his eyes on me, but when I slid my gaze over to him, he quickly glanced away. I rolled my eyes, and turned back to the numbers. However, it wasn't long until I felt his gaze on me again, but I didn't give him the previledge of looking back.   
  
As soon as the doors slid open, I led the way to the café, and I spotted the Minister almost instantly. I'd spent a considerable amount of time reading up on the French Ministry of Magic before I had come, and I recognized him from his picture which seemed to be in every single book, including 'Beauxbatons: A History'.   
  
He seemed to spot us at the exact same moment, and all three of us plastered on smiles. I was the first to step forward, and I stuck out my hand. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger."   
  
He grasped my hand and shook graciously. "Oui, bonjour! Je m'appelle Pierre Delacour. I want to thank you two so much for coming to join us. We appreciate the assistance, I assure you."   
  
I smiled again, and noticed the deep, gray circles residing underneath his eyes. He was a short, plump man who's graying hair only seemed to set off the aged look on his face. He then turned to Ron who introduced himself before we all sat down.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
An hour and a half later, the three of us were still at the table, surrounded by crumpled napkins and pieces of parchment, waiting for dessert to arrive. Although we'd discussed all of the rules, regulations, and pay of the job, we still hadn't brought up exactly why Ron and I were there.   
  
As if he'd read my mind, the Minister spoke up. "As you must be wondering, there is a specific reason why you are here."  
  
Ron and I nodded and I noticed that he leaned forward somewhat.  
  
"Our local school, Beauxbatons, is experiencing some...difficulties. The caretaker residing there has recently passed away, and he left without letting anyone know the whereabouts of the equipment, keys, etc. Now, it is almost June, and no one can figure out how to disengage the safety barrier from around the school. Therefore, unless something is done quickly, the students will be forced to stay for the summer." The Minister continued to pull out numerous maps of the school. "We've pored over these for ages, but the caretaker obviously didn't want anyone finding out where his office was, so it keeps disappearing and appearing in different spots in the building. It's extremely strange, and I don't know how to go about fixing it." At this point he glanced, almost lovingly, up at Ron and I. "But I've heard about you two. All of your adventures at Hogwarts with Harry Potter! I trust that you will be able to solve this." He chuckled softly. "This is surely nothing like You-Know-Who."  
  
Ron and I glanced sideways at each other, but continued to listen.  
  
"Anyway, now that that's sorted out, I have some other news to take care of- Oh, thank you."   
  
Just at that moment, the server reappeared with our desserts and set them down in front of us. I gazed hungrily down at my lemon crumb cake, and turned back to the Minister who was talking about some sort of presentation taking place tomorrow night.   
  
"Anyway, it's formal, and I'd like you two to accept my invitation to join us. It will be a splendid evening, and since you're bound to interact with some of the people attending, it might advantageous for you to come and mingle a bit."  
  
I felt extremely flattered that he would invite us to such an event, and I nodded eagerly. "Yes, that would be wonderful."  
  
Again, the Minister went off on another one of his sermons, and I decided to tune him out for a moment while I took a bite of my cake.  
  
Clink!  
  
My fork clattered to my plate as someone kicked my leg.   
  
"Jeez, I'm so sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean to do that." Ron whispered from my right side.   
  
I glanced over at him, snickering. "Yeah, like you did that by a mistake. You want some of this, don't you?"   
  
He grinned, obviously impressed. "How did you know?"  
  
"I didn't go to Hogwarts with you for seven years for nothing." I said as I pushed the plate over to him. But instead of turning back to the Minister, I found myself watching him, transfixed, as he slowly slid his fork into the cake and extracted a chunk, bringing it to his lips. After he'd swallowed, I guiltily watched as his tongue attempted to lick everything from his lips. I knew I shouldn't be watching him, much less thinking these thoughts, but the idea of pulling my eyes away was even harder.   
  
After a few moments, he turned to me and gestured down to his own plate. "That was delicious, but do you want some of mine?"   
  
I glanced down at his eclaire, and nodded numbly, but instead of pushing his own plate over to me, he took a piece off with his own fork and began to lead it toward my mouth. I was vaguely aware that the Minister was still absorbed in his own food, so I obediently opened my mouth. My heart was pounding, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, which were currently dwelling unblinkingly on my lips. As soon as his fork was in, I closed my mouth around it, tasting the sweet crème until he slowly slid it out. The fork hovered near my lips for what seemed like forever since neither of us wanted to break the energy that seemed be flowing between us. His eyes locked onto mine and I glimpsed an intense-  
  
"Is that alright with you two?"  
  
Ron's elbow clanked onto the table in surprise as I shot my gaze back to the Minister. I swallowed heavily, trying to find my voice again. "Uh...*choke*...um, that would be fine." I said, not having the faintest clue what he was talking about.   
  
"Alright then!" he said cheerfully, getting up from the table. "I guess I'll leave you two at it."   
  
At this, I saw Ron's body contract nervously.   
  
"And I'll be seeing you tomorrow night," the Minister continued. "Remember," he said, leaning down. "It's Muggle-type formal. They might get suspicious if we were wearing dress robes. Oh, and, it will be held on the top floor of this building. See you then!"   
  
He strode across the café, then out the door, leaving Ron and I staring at each other, our breathing heavy.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Hey guys! I hope you liked this chapter. I think it's on the longer side, but that's okay, right? Anyways, there wasn't TOO much action in this, but there'll be more VERY VERY soon. I'm really sorry it's taken me so long to update, but now I really know where I'm going with this, and the chapters will be coming quicker.   
  
Thanks to EVERY SINGLE reviewer! I really appreciate it. Keep em coming! 


	7. Lovely

Chapter 7  
  
~Ron's Point Of View~  
  
I cleared my throat loudly. "Well! It's getting late. I'll head up to my room-our room-whatever-so I'll, uh, see you later."  
  
Without waiting for an answer, I leapt from the table, and swiftly headed toward the elevator. I punched the up button and waited impatiently. The little numbers above were lighting up so slowly that I wondered if something had gone wrong. Out of frustration, I punched the button again, and the doors slid open. As soon as I got to the room, I threw myself into my own room and slammed that door as well.  
  
"Whew!" I breathed. But what was the big deal anyway? I mean, I've had fantasies about Hermione and I sharing desserts for my entire life, so-wait, that's not what I meant. I MEANT that I USED to have those fantasies when I went to Hogwarts. I hadn't had them for YEARS. Yeah. So anyway, it's beyond me why I actually ran out on her if what had just happened down in the café would please my...uh...childhood self.   
  
I heard the main door open and close softly, and I decided I would get ready for bed so that Hermione wouldn't have a chance to knock on my door and 'talk about it'. However, that didn't mean that thoughts about her didn't leave my mind, and my last conscious thought before I drifted off to sleep was that if things kept going the way they were, I never wanted this trip to end.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The next morning, most awkwardness was gone, apart from the abnormal formalness that took its place. I wasn't complaining though. And as for the rest of the day, it passed quickly while Hermione and I would attempt to avoid each other as politely as possible. If she was down in the fitness center, I was upstairs trying to crack the case for Beauxbatons; and when she was upstairs, I was downstairs taking a swim. It really worked out quite well.  
  
But when the clock chimed 7 o'clock, we went into our separate rooms to prepare for our evening out. About fifteen minutes later, I glanced at myself quickly in the mirror. "How do I look?" I muttered. Waiting vainly for an answer, I tapped on the glass with annoyance before I remembered we were in a Muggle hotel. "Fine then, I guess I'll have to see for myself." I said.   
  
I gave myself a critical once over and took in the entire look. I had tried to go a bit classic tonight, with my traditional tux that I'd brought with me, as well as my unruly hair tamed a bit with gel so that it would stand slightly spiked. Unwillingly, I glanced down on the bureau top where a single red rose lay alone. I knew that Hermione liked roses. And I knew that she would always deserve one. What I didn't know, though, was if I had bought it with completely platonic feelings toward her or if it was in hopes that her feelings would get better towards yours truly.   
  
I lifted my arm as if it were a dead weight and picked up the rose. 'Here goes nothing.' I thought glumly. With an attitude of a determined soldier, I stepped out of the safety of my bedroom and into the darkened living quarters where the only light visible was filtering inside from the outdoor lamps. The change of atmosphere made me squint, trying to adjust my vision. A few moments later, with my eyes fully adjusted, I spotted Hermione inside her own bedroom since her door was cracked only a couple inches. She was standing before her mirror, fixing a tendril of her hair that had fallen out of its bun, and I could tell, even from this distance, that she was beautiful.   
  
She must've sensed my gaze, because at that moment she glanced at me in the reflection of the mirror, and grinned sheepishly. She turned then and switched off her light, plunging both of us into pitch black. I heard the door creak open, and my eyes adjusted at a few moments later.  
  
"Hi." she said.  
  
The thick darkness in front of me thinned even more, and I was able to see Hermione's full appearance. I swear, my breathing seemed to become much more shallow. A simple black dress never seemed more elegant or perfect in all my life than it did at that moment. The thin straps looked to me as if they could snap at any second, the neck was low enough to make my heart pound while not really showing much at all, the hem ended about an inch above her knee, and the rest hugged her in all the right places.   
  
I gulped. "You look lovely."   
  
Even in the darkness, I could see her blush. "Thank you." She grinned again, then glanced curiously at the rose in my hands.  
  
It snapped me back to reality. "This is for you." I said, embarrassed and regretting I'd thought to bring it in the first place. "I hope it doesn't seem to old fashioned or anything, but when I saw it today, I thought of you, and I just had-"  
  
She took a step forward and gently took it from me. "Thank you. I love roses." She glanced up at me. "I didn't think you would remember that."  
  
I grinned. "I remember quite a bit, Hermione." With that, I stepped forward and offered her my arm. "Shall we?"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~Hermione's Point Of View~  
  
I took Ron's arm, ignoring the anxious fluttering in my stomach. "Of course." I said softly, smiling up at him.   
  
We made our way to the elevator, and rode silently up to the highest floor. On the way, however, my thoughts were wandering helplessly.   
  
My stomach was still fluttering, and although it was nerve-wracking, it was wonderful all the same. It was a feeling I hadn't had for a long, long while, and I realized that I had been missing it terribly. It was a quivering, excited feeling that I absolutely never felt around Viktor. It was a feeling that made you thrilled and terrified at the same time, and I tried to think back to when I had had that feeling before. My mind was racing, images were flashing before my eyes, and just as the elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open, Ron's face popped into my head.   
  
I glanced up at the man himself. Ron. It had always been him. Why was I kidding myself before? Why had I been with Viktor all this time? When I was with Ron, everything seemed more intense. Not just my feelings, but everything. My surroundings. My sensed. It was insane.   
  
"Well, here we are." Ron said, squeezing my arm softly in his. He led me out into the large room, which seemed to be a ballroom, where a small stage was set up in front where rows of chairs sat before it. A grand piano sat in the corner, emitting soft, peaceful tunes. There were about 50 people wandering around and mingling politely, but I realized quite quickly that each and every one of them looked to be at least 20 years older than Ron and I, and they were all speaking fluently and very quickly in French. Something I had not thought of before hand. My mind reeled through the few simple and basic sentences I knew of, but I also knew that none of them would do much good to these people.   
  
A short, round woman with a blob of grey hair came hurrying over to us and asked a question so quickly that I barely heard 'bonjour'. I was about to ask her if she knew any English when Ron spoke up beside me.  
  
"Salut, je m'appelle Ron Weasley et elle s'appelle Hermione Granger."   
  
"Oui, merci." she said quickly, scribbling our names onto name tags and slapping them onto us before scurrying away.   
  
I pulled my arm away from Ron and looked up at him, utterly bewildered. "What was that?!" I asked. "Since when do you know French?"  
  
"Since four years ago. I figured it was about time I learn the language since our countries are fairly close together. I thought that maybe one day it would do me some good, and...now it has. Good thing, eh? Come on, let's mingle!" He took my arm again and led me into the crowd.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
After an incredibly boring presentation from the Minister's daughter, Fluer (which made me very uncomfortable and brought back many unhappy memories, but Ron didn't seem affected by his memories, or her veela powers, which made me a tad bit happier), everyone had stood up to visit with each other once again. Ron had run off to the rest room a few moments before, leaving me to try to fend for myself with my minimal French abilities.  
  
For the last few minutes, I was pretending to be incredibly fascinated by the food table, hoping no one would have the courage to approach me and begin a conversation. It was sad to think that Ron had pretty much done all the conversing that night, but it was true, and I wasn't about to try it out by myself.   
  
I was just pouring myself a third glass of punch, when a hand on my arm not only startled me, but made me incredibly uneasy. How was I supposed to converse with this person? I slowly turned around, trying not to grimace, when I found Ron, grinning mysteriously.   
  
I sighed, relieved. "Ron, don't do that. I thought I was going to have to try to speak some understandable Fr-what are you grinning about?"  
  
"Okay, well, I was trying to find the loo, but I got a bit lost, and I stumbled onto this great-oh, come on, let me show you."   
  
He grabbed my hand and continued to lead me through the throng of people, not moving fast enough to attract some unwanted attention. We went through the doors of the room, down the hallway, through a door, and finally stopped at another door with chipped white paint. He turned the doorknob, revealing a flight of steps.   
  
"Ron, what's up there?"   
  
"Shh."  
  
He kept hold of my hand the entire way up, although I'm sure he didn't realize that, and it was no small feat, considering it was at least a couple of flights up. By the time we reached the top, we were both slightly out of breath, and we had only reached another door. Except this one, had a label on it, and it wasn't simply white:  
  
'Roof Access'  
  
"Are you sure we're allowed out there?" I whispered, not knowing why I was whispering.  
  
"Of course! You'll see..."  
  
And he pushed it open. There was a large space, surrounded by the building itself, which was creating a small fence. The top of this 'fence' was lined with lights, and pots of flowers and shrubs were scattered all over, creating a feeling of being on a mountain, not on top of a roof. There were a few benches here and there, and the floor was mounted with bricks instead of regular cement, and I was impressed by the quality of it. But the view was best. It was about 9:30pm, so Paris was dark. Well, as dark as a city like that can be at least. Lights were sparkling from cafes, street lamps, and most of all, the Eiffel Tower.   
  
"Wow." I whispered. I stepped up to the edge, and held onto the 'fence', gazing out over the city.  
  
"I know." Ron said. I felt him step up behind me and, softly, almost nervously, he wrapped his arms around my waist, lacing his fingers in front of me.   
  
There was that feeling again. Fluttering.   
  
I knew I was grinning like an idiot when I leaned my head back on his chest and placed my hands on top of his.   
  
After a couple minutes of a silence, it was broken.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I'm really glad it was you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"This job. I mean, I was kind of uneasy about who my partner in crime was going to be, and...well, out of everybody it could've been, I'm glad it was you."   
  
I turned around to face him, and when his arms didn't leave my waist, I rested mine on his shoulders.   
  
"Me too." I was quiet for a moment until I couldn't take it anymore. "All this fighting is so incredibly stupid! It's been five entire years, Ron! I mean, yeah, we had a fight, but who even remembers what that was about, right?"  
  
He looked startled for a moment, then smiled broadly. One of those smiles that makes me melt. "Right. I've missed you, Mione."  
  
My eyes darted back up to his when he said my nickname. I'd almost forgotten that. Almost. Whenever he would say that back at Hogwarts, I would always feel so special, and sometimes I wanted to pretend it was because I was his.  
  
Just like now. All those feelings that I'd had back in Hogwarts came flooding back, and as much as I tried to forbid them, they pushed all the way through, reminding me of all the times that I was jealous of Lavender or obsessing over every single adorable thing that Ron does. How he'd run his hands through his hair when he was nervous, making it stand straight up. How he'd wrap me up in a hug whenever he was happy. Or how his eyebrows would come together whenever he was concentrating.  
  
Like now. And his eyes were on my lips.  
  
My eyes widened and I felt my heart beat excel to an extremely abnormal rate. I felt his breath coming closer on my face, and I was vaguely aware of him tilting his chin in order to get better access to my mouth. My heart seemed to be pounding in my ears as my eyelids slid shut, and I licked my lips anxiously. A moment later, I felt his lips touch mine.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Author's Note: AHHH! Cliffhanger, eh? I would really appreciate a review. Okay, now to more important stuff: I. Am. So. Sorry. I've been on vacation for a couple weeks, plus I've been really busy. But, ready? This is my goal. I want to be done with this fic by the time school starts. Cross your fingers! Please review. Flame me. Whatever. I just need something to keep me writing. In the next TWO days, I'll either have another chapter to this or "Friends...I Guess". I promise.  
  
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tiffany-45: Sorry it took me so long. But here it is. Enjoy! And have a cookie. :) 


	8. Pathetic

Mistakes Happen  
  
Chapter 8  
  
AN: I had half this chapter typed, then had to hurry to get out of it, and my computer deleted the entire thing! So now I'm starting over! GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!! Computers are evil, computers are evil, computers are evil...  
  
~Ron's Point Of View~  
  
I couldn't believe what I had done. My heart was beating strangely fast, and when I began to feel dizzy, I realized that I would have thought I had been having a heart attack if it weren't for my acute awareness of the closeness of Hermione's body. When I felt Hermione gasp as our lips touched, I fully considered staying up there on that roof with her for the rest of my life.   
  
But then I felt her flick her tongue across my bottom lip, and I knew I must have been shaking as I deemed her access. Gently, she began to explore my mouth and I thought I might die from the adrenaline rushing past my ears. I began to pull her closer, not fully aware of my intentions, when-  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The clouds above us broke, and plump raindrops scattered across our faces and the rest of the roof, creating the sound of rice being dropped. We broke apart, squinting in confusion, and I saw Hermione stretch out her fingers in disbelief.   
  
"Perfect timing, huh?" I asked.  
  
She laughed aloud, first quietly, then in extreme, as if the funniest thing had just happened. After a few moments, I joined her, and we stood there, on a rooftop in Paris, being soaked to the bone, and in hysterics. Finally, after we'd calmed down, I reached out a dripping hand.  
  
"Shall we?" I asked.  
  
She smiled and took it. Together we darted through the nearest doorway, down the stairs, and through the banquet, avoiding curious glances all the way. Slipping and squeaking all the way down the polished hallways, we eventually reached the elevators.   
  
After getting out of the elevator a few moments later, silence had enveloped us once again. Still joined at the hands, but barely noticing, we reached our room and entered inside.   
  
The room was dark, and after the door had been shut, my throat dried. Was I supposed to say something? Kiss her again? I knew one thing for certain, and that was that I didn't want this night to end. Not now. Not even close.   
  
But before I could make a decision, Hermione reached over and hit the light switch, flooding the room with a yellow dim. I glanced at Hermione and my breath caught. She was looking at me, smiling shyly, tiny droplets sliding down her face and hair. Her dress was soaked, clinging to her body, and she was wringing her hands in front of her. I was mesmerized.   
  
"Mione," I whispered, taking a step closer. Clumsily, I brought my hand up to her cheek, cupping it lightly, and wiped away the drops from her face. After they were gone, I had no intention of taking my hand away. We stood, simply staring at each other, when she brought her own hand up to cover mine, and gently took my hand from her face.   
  
"I had fun tonight, Ron," she said quietly.  
  
Fun?! Is that all it was to her? Tonight was so much more to me that I could even begin to explain it. But I was about to try.  
  
"Hermione, I-"  
  
But she didn't let me finish. She took a turn stepping closer, kissed me softly on the cheek, and whispered, "A lot of fun."  
  
Then before I could do anything, she turned, went into her bedroom, clicking the door softly behind her. And I couldn't help but smile. "Me too, Mione. Me too." I whispered to the night, glancing quickly at the Eiffel Tower before I turned to my own room.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A week later, after zero success in the map issue, Hermione and I were getting a bit frustrated. We'd spent hours in local libraries, both public and magical, because we needed all the help we could get. Hours and hours more were spent trying to break the map's spell, but nothing worked. Nothing.  
  
One night, I went down to the hotel's fitness center (which I found extremely interesting) and lifted weights for a while to relieve some stress. When I reentered the hotel room, towel-drying my face, I was met with a flustered looking Hermione gripping her wand in one hand and the map in the other, glaring harshly at it.   
  
As I took a few hesitant steps in the room, I smiled in amusement at the quills, books, and tattered pieces of parchment scattered across the living quarters' floor and coffee table. It seemed to resemble how disorderly Hermione seemed lately.   
  
"Pieces of parchment don't usually take threats very well, you know." I said jokingly.   
  
She jumped, darting her eyes to the door, then relaxing when she saw it was me. "Oh. Ron."  
  
"Please keep your enthusiasm down. It really gets to me after a while." I said, leaning into my room to toss the towel on the floor. When I came back out, I saw that she had set down the wand and parchment, and had continued to slump against the back of the couch.  
  
"Sorry. It's just...this is so maddening! We've tried every single directional spell, revealing charm, and spell breaker that we know of! What else is there?" She rolled her eyes and brought her fingers to her temples, massaging them lightly. "We even tried 'I honestly swear I am up to no good', and that's pretty desperate."  
  
I stood rooted to my spot in the doorway, completely lost as to what I should do. In a perfect scenario, I would wrap my arms around her and whisper soothing words in her ear, but at the moment, I wasn't sure if I had permission. In the past week, we hadn't said anything about our kiss...not one word...and it almost seemed as if it had never happened. I was even beginning to wonder myself.  
  
So I did the next best thing I could think of.   
  
Stepping up directly behind her and the couch, I slid my fingers onto her shoulders, kneading gently at her muscles, attempting to smooth away all of the tension. She stiffened in surprise at first, then relaxed and leaned forward a bit. I smiled at this, knowing that she wanted me to continue, and I worked my way down her shoulder blades toward her spine. I heard her sigh softly as I swept my fingers up to her shoulders again, reaching across slightly to her collarbone. I was surprised to feel her shiver quickly, goose bumps rising up on her skin. She dipped her head forward even more, and as her hair fell away from her shoulders, I had to bite my lip.   
  
I looked down at her slim neck, which had been covered by curls just moments before. My fingers continued on their journey across her back with a mind of their own, as I allowed myself to gaze at the silky flesh in front of me. I found myself wondering what it would feel like against my fingers, and even...what it would taste like.   
  
I immediately felt embarrassed for thinking thoughts that were so inappropriate. Yes, we had kissed, but I didn't know if she regretted it. Or even remembered it. Besides, it was just so...  
  
I felt my willpower begin to drain away as I began to lean forward, my mind completely separated from my body. My body seemed very interested, while my mind was trying to get some sense into me: "Stop while you still can, Ron. This is going too far. Do you hear me? DON'T BE A PRAT!"   
  
But I didn't listen. I couldn't. Finally, my fingers faltered, resting on her shoulders, and I became insanely close.   
  
"Mione," I whispered hoarsely.   
  
She turned her head slightly, still surprised at the nickname, but too relaxed to do much about it. It was at that moment that my lips touched her neck, slightly below her right ear.   
  
She gasped again, just like she had done when we were on the rooftop last week. My hands sprung to life again, sliding down her back and across her waist, resting on her stomach. After a few moments of shallow breathing from both of us, she tilted her head slightly to the left, as if to give me more access to her neck, and even though I couldn't see her, I knew her eyes had closed. As she rested her hands over mine, she made a small, pleased sound in the back of her throat, and I felt my body throb. I had never heard her make a sound like that.   
  
My hands went from her stomach to her hips, and I slid my lips down her neck, in a way in which I hoped was painfully slowly, onto the curve of her shoulder, and forward onto her collarbone: a place that I remembered was rather vulnerable.   
  
I felt her take in a sharp, shaky breath, gulping loudly. "Ron," she muttered.   
  
"Hmm?" I was too distracted.   
  
"Do you...I mean...should we..."  
  
BAM!  
  
We flew apart, searching wildly for the source of our interruption. Finally, I saw a gigantic black owl sitting outside on the terrace. It glared harshly at us, as if it thought we had been doing something wrong. I nudged Hermione, pointing over at the window. At her glance, it hooted in a low tone, challenging Hermione to come to him.  
  
"You know him?" I asked.  
  
But she didn't answer me. It seemed as though she was half guilty, just looking at the bird, and half annoyed that it had had the nerve to interrupt us.   
  
As she made her way over to the sliding door, she remembered the question I had asked and nodded slowly. "Yes," she said, a slight tone of dislike edging forward, "it's mine. And Viktor's."  
  
Oh man. Why now? In the middle of...this? I felt like the two of us were actually getting somewhere, and then VICKY had to interrupt us.  
  
Vicky. I felt my blood begin to boil. He was the reason Hermione and I had been in a fight for so long, and the last thing I wanted was to get his...intimate position with Hermione thrown in my face. Over the five-year estrangement between Hermione and I, I'll admit that I had thought about her sometimes. Quite a lot actually. During that time, when someone would mention Krum, it would make me feel sick. But, strangely, over the past few days, I hadn't remembered that she was with him. Not once. It wasn't like she hadn't helped me, though. She never mentioned him or showed any sign of remembrance of him as we kissed. In fact, it was almost like she wanted to...go farther.  
  
"What does he want?" I asked, my voice low with dislike.  
  
She didn't answer as she ripped open the envelope, as if to get the letter over with as soon as humanly possible, and begin to read. At first, her eyes scanned quickly. Soon, though, they would falter on some words, her eyebrows would rise, and before I knew what was happening, her eyes filled with tears.  
  
"Mione?" I asked, somewhat urgently.  
  
She ignored me again, still reading. Slowly, she walked over to the couch opposite me, sat down, finished reading, and burst into tears.   
  
I stared at her for a moment, unable to comprehend why she would cry over Krum. But, finally remembering where I was and what I should be doing, I hurried over to her, crouching next to her on the floor, my hand resting on her knee.  
  
"What is it?"   
  
She sobbed harder than I had ever seen her. Her body rocked with violent cries, but she eventually managed to choke out a few mangled sentences.  
  
"Viktor...(choke)...he wrote (hiccup) to say...(sob)...to say that he had...had...(hiccup) had found someone...(pause)...else." At this, she looked up at me urgently, her eyes searching mine, as if to explain herself. "He broke up with me. But, Ron, I didn't even like him! It was like we were on opposite ends of the earth, just happening to live under one roof. He'd be gone for months at a time, but when he was home...he couldn't even say my name." She burst into tears again. "He couldn't even pronounce it properly, Ron! God, why am I so upset? I didn't even like him, much less LOVE him. And I lived with him for an entire three years."  
  
She leaned back now with silent, less violent tears now streaming down her cheeks. I waited patiently, just sitting there with her, until:  
  
"You were right," she said suddenly, her voice ringing with clarity.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"You were right." she said more quietly. "Five years ago, you told me that the only reason I went with Viktor was because I'm not as independent as I seem. Apparently, that's how I'm turning out to be."  
  
I shook my head hurriedly. "No, Mione, listen, I-"  
  
"No, you listen! Viktor was the only one who ever made me feel special. I fell for it. I saw myself as an obnoxious know-it-all, and I didn't want to be alone for the rest of my life. So...I grabbed the first guy that came along."   
  
She was looking at the ceiling in agony, as if she couldn't believe what she had done. "I guess if anyone else had ever shown any kind of interest, I might've turned out different. But, this is who I am now. And," she paused as another batch of tears flowed down her face, "it's pathetic."  
  
At this, she brought her knees up to her chin, sobbing silently, indicating that all conversation was over. Trying to be a bit comforting, I climbed up on the couch next to her and put my arm around her shoulders, bringing her face to my shoulder. She seemed to find this consoling, and she wrapped her arms around my torso, clinging onto my shirt desperately, her body beginning to shake with silent cries once more.  
  
I sat there beside her, allowing her tears to dampen my shirt, and for the life of me, I couldn't think of what to say. Of course, I could admit that Krum had never been the only one who had interest in her, but...no.  
  
So I didn't say anything at all.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
AN: Hermione's point of view next time! Sorry for the...five months was it? Anyways, sorry for the wait. Please review if you have any comment whatsoever. Praise, disgust, whatever, just press the button. Happy New Year! 


	9. Chocolate Chips

Mistakes Happen

Chapter 9

Hermione's Point Of View

RING!

I woke with a start, looking around me blindly, my eyes only half open. When I saw that it was the phone that was emitting the shrill rings, I groaned and pulled my blankets over my head, trying to sink back into the comfortable sleep I had been in just moments before.

Wait a minute.

The memories from last night came flooding back in full force: Ron comforting me, Viktor dumping me, and…back to Ron. My hand went up to my neck, remembering how he had begun to massage my shoulders, and suddenly his lips replaced his hands. I grinned as my fingers grazed my collarbone, images of Ron flashing through my mind. But then…how did I get into bed? My last thought of the night was sobbing on Ron's chest.

I immediately lifted my blankets to make sure that I was dressed, and when I found positive results, I blushed. Of course Ron wouldn't have taken advantage of me.

Ron. I swung my hand in the direction of the space next to me, almost expecting him to be there. Not only was he not there, but there were no signs of him sleeping there at all, and it was then that I realized that the phone had stopped ringing and the soft murmur of Ron's voice could be heard through my closed bedroom door. I smiled shyly to myself, half embarrassed for my undeniable desire to see Ron.

Obviously not wanting to wake me, I heard the phone softly click back into place, and a few moments later, there was a knock at the front door. I frowned as I heard Ron's hurried footsteps, and then the silent opening of the door. There was a quick, murmured conversation, and then the person was gone, and it was just Ron again. What was going on?

I peeked out from under the thick, feather quilt that I was growing to love, debating whether I should leave my cocoon of contentment to investigate. Finally, I settled on getting up in a couple minutes.

Right now, I needed to be here, in this room, comfortable. Forgetting about my suspicion, I glanced around my brightly lit room. The dazzling sunlight was bouncing off of the walls and playing against the sparkling mirror, lighting the room as if hundreds of lit wands were floating about. I looked out the window at the flawless blue sky and the vivid outline of the Eiffel Tower, and I felt something within me swell. I heard Ron quietly moving about in the living quarters, and felt different somehow. I knew it was not solely because I was now entirely free from Viktor, but also for…something I couldn't put my finger on.

I was snatched from my daydream by a quiet knock at the door. I smiled again, forgetting my suspicion, and stretched lazily. Without hearing a response, Ron inaudibly cracked open the door and stuck his head inside. He caught a glimpse of my grinning face and returned the favor.

"Morning," he whispered, not wanting to break the comfort of morning-silence.

"Hey," I said, speaking quietly. I scooted over a bit in my oversized bed. "Come in, come in."

He smiled secretively and disappeared again. A moment later, my door swung fully open, and I heard the squeaky wheels of the tray before I saw them.

I felt my jaw drop as the pristine platter of room service cuisine was directed into my room. When Ron appeared behind the cart, he still had the boyish grin on his lips. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Oh," I said, unable to comprehend the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. "Ron…thank you." I began to crawl out of bed, eager to help Ron set up and eat the delicious smelling food.

"No, stay there." He said, his eyes glued to the task of organizing the food in front of him. "This is breakfast in bed, Mione."

I bit my lip, stopping mid crawl. Returning back to the warm space in which I had slept, I shifted into a sitting position, stuffing a couple pillows behind my back, and I took a minute to watch the man in front of me. It was amazing how much a person could change in just five years. He was wearing a crisp pair of khakis with a loose-fitting button down white and blue striped shirt. The cuffs of the sleeves were rolled up a bit, so as not to get any of the food smeared on them, and a small amount of freckled skin could be seen from his elbows down. His bright red hair was adorably, yet fashionably messy, and it curled up around his ears.

He didn't react to my gaze, so I didn't avert it as I tried to find some kind of resemblance to the boy who I'd spent all of my school years with. Finally, with a dramatic flick of a napkin, his eyes came up to meet mine, and I found what I was looking for. Crystal blue eyes like his could belong to one person and one person only.

"Breakfast is served, Madame," he said, imitating a French accent perfectly. His eyes sparkled as he spread the napkin across my lap, then turning back to retrieve the tray.

"And what may I ask am I about to eat?" I asked teasingly.

"Patience is a virtue, did you know that?"

I laughed, crossing my arms jokingly. "Hmm. I think I've heard that somewhere."

Turning back to me with the tray in his hands, he nodded. "I believe you've heard it from yourself. You always used to say things like that in Hogwarts." His laughter joined mine as he gently placed the tray on top of the napkin, making sure that nothing would spill.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "Was I really _that_ annoying while we were in school?" I watched for a reaction as he sat down beside me.

For a moment he seemed lost in thought. At length, he looked up at me. "No, Hermione. I definitely wouldn't call it annoying."

I watched him for a moment, a bit unsettled by his intense stare. What did he mean? I tried to analyze his response, deciding if I was worse or better than annoying.

His gaze eventually flickered down to the food. "Well? Aren't you going to eat?"

"Oh, right!" I'd almost forgotten that I had a platter of food basically on top of me. Reaching for the silverware, I got my first glance of the picture perfect meal, and I smiled broadly. "Ron!"

Displayed in front of me was a sampling of every single breakfast food that I loved. There was a small bowl of ripe raspberries, which was strange since they weren't even in season. There was also toast with marmalade, half a grapefruit, and a large plate of chocolate chip pancakes.

"How…?" I was at a loss for words. No one in the world knew of my secret obsession of chocolate chip pancakes (my parents would kill me: "Chocolate in the morning?! Think of your teeth, dear!") except for Ron and Harry, who had witnessed it many mornings at Hogwarts. But…it had been five years since Hogwarts. How in the world did he remember?

"Ron," I said, looking up at him once more, searching his face for some answers. "How did you remember my favorite foods? In case you've forgotten, it's been five years."

He blushed lightly, dropping his gaze away from mine. "Come on, Mione. We were best friends for seven years of my life. You expect me to forget all about that in a measly five? I mean…I'm sure that Harry would remember too."

I laughed out loud at this. "Are you kidding me? This is Harry we're talking about. He remembers Ginny's favorite things, but he has no need to remember mine."

"Oh. Well…maybe I just have a good memory then?"

"I suppose. Except…" This time it was my turn to blush.

"Yes?"

I bit my lip again before speaking. "Strawberry waffle, cheese omelet, and pumpkin juice." I wasn't sure if he heard me.

But he did. Damn.

There was that Intense Stare again. "Those are my favorites." He sounded in awe.

"Well," I said, trying desperately to shrug it off. "Y'know…"

Silence filled the room, but it was teeming with electricity, with wonder, with attraction.

The silence was unbearable. What was he thinking? I cautiously drew my eyes up to meet his, and his gaze bore into mine. I felt my breath quicken for no apparent reason. His eyes flickered down to my lips, and I parted them instinctively. It was then that he began to lean forward.

This was okay, wasn't it? I mean, after our first kiss up on the roof, I had doubted it. He hadn't spoken of it again, and I thought that he regretted it. But after last night…he obviously wanted me, and there was no denying that the feeling was mutual. But…what was that word? Rebound? That's not what this was turning out to be, was it? I had no experience in that type of situation, and I didn't know what was right or what was wrong. I knew for a fact that I had never loved Viktor, so that couldn't play a part in it, but…still.

He was getting painfully close, and I could feel his moist breath on my face. But…no. I leaned back a bit, turning my face away. The movement was enough for Ron, and he stopped immediately. I could almost feel his hurt.

When I looked up at him again, his eyes were questioning me and his feeling of rejection was very apparent.

"Ron," I whispered, as if my voice had the potential of breaking him altogether. "It's not you."

"Then what is it?" his voice cracked mid-question.

"I…I love…this. I just don't want you to be my transition. Anything but that."

He nodded, a bit more understanding. "Right. Did you want me to…leave?"

I shook my head urgently. "No…please don't. Do you want to help me eat this?"

He looked up at me, the usual twinkle back in his eye. "Ah, using my love of food against me, now? And I was about to go and feel sorry for myself…"

I shook my head, happy he was back to normal. "No need for that! Now…what would suit your fancy…a pancake?" I shifted the tray so that it was between us, and he made himself comfortable on my bed.

"Well, since you asked…"

For the next two hours, we ate the delicious food and talked about nothing in particular. I knew I probably looked disheveled from sleep, but, strangely, I didn't care. There was nowhere else that I'd rather have been than in that sunlit room with Ron and chocolate chip pancakes.

Another hour later, it was coming up on noon. After Ron and I had finished eating, he left into the living quarters so as to let me get ready. I took a long, steamy shower, allowing all of the grime and memories of Viktor to wash down the drain, never to be seen again. I took my time getting dressed; I searched through my belongings for something rather new in order to feel refreshed. This was the first day of my relationship with freedom, and I wanted to feel revived.

I chose a beautiful white, low cut sundress that Ginny had talked me into buying last summer. "Hermione, you're thin and tan. You have to have this. Take my word for it: if you don't buy it, I will buy it for you." She had said, thrusting the dress and the hanger into my arms.

I stepped into it, marveling at how wonderful it felt, and I slid my feet into flat, white flip-flops that I rarely wore. I glanced at myself in the mirror, deciding that I would allow my hair to be free today. Although at one point people may have considered my hair bushy, it was now rather stylish with random curls and waves here and there. I applied a small amount of sheer lip-gloss and smiled at my reflection.

"Mione?"

My pulse quickened as I turned toward my closed door. Ron was on the other side, but I wasn't sure if I wanted him to see me quite yet. For some reason, nervousness was coursing through my veins.

"Mmhmm?"

He cleared his throat somewhat uncertainly. "Well… I was wondering. We've been working rather hard, and…well…why don't we take the day off? I mean, you know, tour Paris. I don't know about you, but I've never been here before this. And, it wouldn't really be fun alone. So…would you come?"

Even though I couldn't see him, I knew he was blushing furiously. No matter how hard I tried, I failed at wiping the ecstatic smile from my face. Walking over to the door, I opened it to find him staring at the ground, his hands stuffed in his pockets. When he realized that it had opened, his head snapped up.

"Of course, Ron."

"Mione, you look…amazing." His eyes traveled up and down my body, and I was fully aware of the strategic places in which his gaze paused. I laughed inwardly at the power that I seemed to have over him at that moment; he was nearly drooling.

Eager to experiment with this 'power', I stepped through the threshold and walked toward Ron, exagerating the sway of my hips. His eyes met mine once more, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"You know," I said quietly, stepping in front of him. Completely forgetting my fear of 'rebounding', I slid my hands up his torso, and behind his shoulders. "I have a really," One hand went into his hair, and the other stayed on his upper back. "Really," Inching closer, I dropped butterfly kisses along his jaw and down his neck. I found a rather tasty spot on his lower neck and sucked gently, biting delicately on the tender skin now and then. I felt him sigh heavily and begin to snake his arm around my waist. This was my cue; I stopped as quickly as I had begun. "Really good feeling about today." I smiled innocently at him and wriggled out from his arm. Taking his hand instead, I grabbed my purse and I dragged him toward the front door.

With a quick glance behind me on the way out, I saw his happy smirk. "Oh, God," he groaned, obviously unable to believe what I had just done. I laughed quietly. This was going to be fun.

AN: Chapter 10 coming soon.


	10. Magnetic

**Mistakes Happen**

Chapter 10

_Ron's Point Of View-_

"I'll be right back." Hermione said, setting her espresso down on the table. She smiled at me as she stood up and began her way towards the loo.

I smiled back. It wasn't the responding kind of smile, the smile that's forced and created only to please the person who initiated the smile in the first place. It was the kind of smile that I had been working hard on constricting for most of the afternoon. The kind of smile that would give away the secrets that I had buried beneath my neutral expressions. The kind of smile that released all of the pent up passions that I had boiling inside of me; happiness, excitement, fulfillment, and love. Love. And it scared me.

I glanced down at my watch in an attempt to hide my glee, and the hands indicated that it was one o'clock. One o'clock! The day had flown by. I leaned back in the constricting café chair as best I could and reflected on the amazing day that we had had so far.

Hand in hand, we had eagerly exited our hotel and wandered somewhat aimlessly around the ancient, beautiful city of Paris. While Hermione had visited France many times in her childhood with her parents, it had been years since her last trip and she shared in my excitement. We had already experienced the Louvre, the Seine, L'arc de Triomphe, and now, the notorious café. Throughout the day, Hermione and I had been just like old friends. Which we were. But there was no awkwardness of any kind. There was a sense of old comfort as well as new excitement between us, and it was obviously making both us giddy.

Hermione slid her chair out in front of me and sat down in it once again. This successfully snapped me out of my trance and I blinked up at her. "This has been fun today," she said quietly.

"Yeah, well it's not over yet." I said jokingly. I reached for my mocha and brought it up to my nose, inhaling the strong, rich scent. "Oh Merlin, I love coffee."

Hermione glanced up at me and laughed loudly. "You…you…oh never mind." She covered her mouth and every few seconds, her shoulders would shake with suppressed laughter.

"What?" I asked accusingly. I could feel my cheeks turning red. Had I done something stupid?

Finally, after taking a deep breath, she reached forward and, with her index finger, touched the tip of my nose. When she retracted her arm, I could see whipped cream on her finger.

I joined her laughter and modestly wiped it away from my face with my napkin, but just as I had finished cleaning, she smeared the bit that was on her finger across my cheek.

I decided not to even acknowledge what she had done. Instead I took another sip of my coffee, and as she bent down to sip her own espresso, I quickly dipped my finger into my mug and smeared the last bit of whipped cream on her hand, the only area that I could reach.

She snorted into her mug. "I will not have this." She said, raising her nose into the air as if she were royalty. "Remove it immediately." I could see her grin through the façade.

I shrugged, and reached for her hand. Lightly, I kissed it, erasing all of the cream. Now she was fully smiling at me, and I could see something gleaming in her eye. There was a moment of silence where she sat there simply staring at me. For me the situation was half uncomfortable and half addicting. It was like a horrible scene that you couldn't look away from. Magnetic.

Then, as if coming from her daydream, she pushed herself up from her chair and leaned forward. Her brown curls tumbled across her shoulders and I felt myself becoming weaker at her nearness. She was a centimeter away from my mouth when I closed my eyes, but instead I felt her lips graze my cheek, quickly licking off what she had left. My heart beat accelerated, and I glanced at her as she returned to her seat. I silently wondered if she had had this same reaction when I had kissed her hand.

I chuckled softly and so did she. It was as if we were both aware of our power over the other.

"You know," she said at last, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "I'm really glad that we were sent here in particular. There's nothing like France. It stands out from all the other countries in the world."

"I know," I said, nodding. "The food is amazing."

She rolled her eyes. "That is so like you. But that's not what I'm talking about. There's so much history—"

"You _would_ say that."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm not _finished_." She said teasingly. "What I mean is, the people are so comfortable with themselves. It's their culture. Everything they do is with passion, whether it's eating, shopping, working, or...loving. It's beautiful. They're a beautiful people in a beautiful country."

I watched as she sat, gazing at her coffee cup thoughtfully, her index finger lightly circling the top. Her expression seemed of total admiration and I felt a sudden pang of wanting to contribute. "I agree, but we haven't seen the best of it yet. What do you say we go and visit the Eiffel Tower?"

It wouldn't be correct to say that her face lit up. It was more like happiness melted across her features. She looked relaxed and happy and...I couldn't help but think how I lucky I was that this was aimed at me.

She opened her mouth to answer, but before a sound could escape, MinisterDelacour appeared beside our table, worry lines creasing his forehead. "Mademoiselle Granger, Monsieur Weasley, I must speak quickly. However, don't look at me s'il vous plait.I am currently invisible to Mugglesand I don't wantyou two do draw attention to us."

Hermione and I instantly looked at each other, as if we were having a regular conversation.

"One of the students has become very ill. We need to gether out _now_! I need you to find a safe place to apparate and meet me by the front gates of the school immediately. Remember, it's urgent!" And with that, the Minister disapparated once more.

As soon as he had gone, Hermione and I calmly left the cafe, then instantly ran toward a dark alley that we had seen on our way in. Quickly, we apparated into our hotel room to pick up the map, then to the school.

I felt the familiar thud of my feet landing heavily on the ground. I knew I probably looked quite disheveled from the apparating, but when I looked over at Hermione, I knew I wasn't alone. Her white dress was sticking to her, which I would _never _complain about, and she looked positively frantic.

"We never should have gone out today, Ron. This girl could die just because we weren't prepared!" She was wringing her hands, yet I could see the wheels turning in her head, searching for any solution that we hadn't tried yet.

It was then that we looked up at the school for the first time. The school itself was a beautiful, magnificent castle from centuries ago, but that wasn't what was keeping our attention. There was an intimidating, glittering dome, which must have been the shield, covering the entire grounds. If a person could imagine what Muggle electricity looked like, this would be it.

"Hmm." I said thoughtfully. "That looks friendly."

AN: Two chapters at the _most_ left. Can you believe that this has taken me more than two years to write! I'm surprised I'm still doing it, haha! Anyway, review. Don't worry, I haven't even posted this chapter yet, and I'm writing the next. For those of you who have been with me for a while, I know you're getting annoyed. But bare with me! We're _almost done_!

See that lil button down there? It's called a review. And it wouldbe lovely.


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